


Pandora's Box

by metalavocadoes



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Depressed Tyler Joseph, Depression, Getting Help, Hurt/Comfort, Josh Dun is a Sweetheart, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Protective Josh Dun, Recovery, Sad Tyler Joseph, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Harm Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-09-23 06:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17075279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metalavocadoes/pseuds/metalavocadoes
Summary: He sees lines on Tyler's arms and tries to shrug it off. He sees Tyler smiling less than usual and thinks maybe he's just sad. He sees Tyler crying after a show and scratching at his wrists and that's when he decides something isn't right.





	Pandora's Box

Josh sees Tyler's arm during soundcheck in Auckland, and his eyebrows raise an inch when he finds little pink lines scattered on his skin. He squints, trying to get a better look, but then the lines are covered by a sleeve and Tyler's glancing at Josh with a strange look in his eye. Josh decides that it's personal and returns to his drums. 

During their show, Josh finds himself staring at Tyler more than he ought to. He's taken off his jacket in favor of his tank top, and it's hard not to look at him as he's jumping up and down. He's hoping no one notices, but when they've finished Trees and stepped off the stage and calmed themselves down, Mark approaches him. 

"You were staring at Tyler a lot tonight," he says casually, like he's talking about the weather. "Something up?"

Josh's lips tighten. "No, I'm fine. We're fine."

"Did you two fight?"

"Mark, we're fine. Get out of my dressing room."

Mark raises his hands along with his eyebrows. "Alright, jeez, don't be so touchy!"

Josh rolls his eyes as the door clicks shut. 

When he opens the door later, he finds Tyler standing outside. His hair is ruffled and in the cheap lighting he looks almost sick; his cheekbones stick out and his lips are dry and there's black bags underneath his eyes.

"Hey, Ty," Josh says, smiling softly even though his stomach is twisting.

"Hi," Tyler rasps back. His face remains neutral. 

Josh's heart starts thudding. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just came to tell you that we're leaving. You ready?"

"Totally. I've got everything I need. Red bull, snacks, my amazing boyfriend."

Tyler smiles at that, but it doesn't really reach his eyes. Josh moves forward and places a hand on his shoulder, but when he feels Tyler flinch his heart drops. He tries to catch Tyler's gaze, but he's looking firmly at the ground. His face is blank.

"Tyler," he calls softly. "Are you okay?"

Tyler swallows. "I'm fine, Josh. Just a bit jumpy. It's no big deal."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure." 

Then Tyler's shrugging off his hand and setting off down the hall, and he's _speed walking,_ and Josh is worried. There's no reason for Tyler to rush. They have all the time in the world. He hurriedly catches up, but keeps his mouth shut. He doesn't want to make anything worse. He's learned that sometimes Tyler just needs to be alone, and Josh needs to respect that. But wow, practically running away from him? He tries not to be hurt, but the ache in his chest is too real to ignore.

When they board the bus, Tyler immediately heads for the bunks. Josh wants to follow him, but again. Respect. He stays behind and sits on the couch slowly, willing the ache in his chest to go away. He tries even harder to ensure the hurt doesn't show on his face.

"So you're completely, one hundred percent sure you're fine?"

Dammit Mark.

Josh sighs. "I don't know. I thought so, but he basically ran away from me back at the stadium. I hope he's okay."

"It's Tyler. He's never okay."

"Shut up, Mark."

Mark shrugs and grabs a juice box from the fridge. Josh tries to distract himself by scrolling through Instagram on his phone. There are still butterflies in his chest, though, and his throat is tight. He's worried, and he doesn't know how to help, and that he hates more than anything. He doesn't want Tyler to be afraid, doesn't want him to feel like he needs to hold back his secrets for fear of judgement. Josh could never hate him. If he found out Tyler murdered someone, he'd probably show up at his house with a shovel and a garbage bag. 

There's a clatter in the bathroom, and Josh practically leaps out of his seat. 

"Tyler?" he calls, stomping over. "You good?"

"I-I'm fine," comes the hurried response. "Just dropped something."

Josh somehow doesn't believe him. "That's all?"

"Yeah. That's all."

And he knows Tyler's lying. 

"Alright, Ty. Just wanted to make sure you're okay.

And he knows Tyler isn't.

===

About a week goes by. Tyler and Josh play more shows. Tyler and Josh do more interviews. Tyler and Josh take more pictures.

Tyler and Josh don't talk. Properly, at least.

He doesn't think they've gone this long without a kiss or a hug or a little bit of banter since they've gotten together. It feels strange, like there's a fire inside him that burns brighter whenever he sees Tyler walk away without so much as a glance in his direction, when he sees Tyler with bags under his eyes so dark they look like bruises, when Tyler's crying in the bunks and he thinks Josh can't hear him. Josh hears everything.

What hurts the most is that he hasn't seen Tyler smile once.

Tyler's not the kind to be smiling all the time, of course. Depression will do that to you. But at the very least he should have smirked or laughed at something in the past seven days. 

Nope. 

Nothing.

So Josh decides that, when the moment is right, he's going to confront Tyler more firmly than he had before. Something isn't right, in fact something is very, very wrong, and he's going to find out what.

And when Josh hears the horrifically familiar sounds of Tyler crying inside his dressing room, that's when he decides the moment is right.

"Ty?" he calls softly, rapping his knuckles against the door. "It's Josh, can I come in?"

He isn't graced with a response, so he repeats himself once, twice, three times.

He wonders briefly why these dressing rooms don't have locks as he swings the door open, and he's confronted with a sight that makes him wish they did.

Tyler's slumped on the floor, huddled in the corner, with his knees to his chest and his arms tight against him. He's breathing so quickly it's like he's hardly breathing at all, and his shoulders are very nearly vibrating. Josh sees his wrists move in a quick, repetitive motion, and when he gets closer it looks like Tyler's... scratching.

Scratching?

He moves forward.

Tyler finally seems to notice his presence. "S-stay back!" he warbles. "Get out of my room!"

"No," Josh says, voice steady. "Tyler, you're going to tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing! There's nothing wrong, just leave me alone!"

"Tyle-"

"I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE JOSH!"

Tyler's scream leaves Josh's ears ringing, and his chest aches. He gulps and suddenly he feels guilty, like he's doing something he shouldn't be. Why else would Tyler be this angry? There's tears flying down his face and his teeth are clenched and his eyes are screwed tight and oh god, is this Josh's fault?

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

"Stop lying, Tyler."

The sobs he'd heard before stop abruptly, and he hears sniffles and frantic breathing. The words burn his throat coming out, and it feels like drinking acetone. The silence stretches on, and he turns to leave when he hears the quietist of rasps.

"Sorry."

He turns around and opens his eyes. "What?"

Tyler's still crying, and he's still hiding in the corner, but his scratching has stopped and his arms are pulled tight against his chest. "I'm sorry."

Josh thinks about attempting to approach Tyler again, but his boyfriend plants his hands beside him and pushes himself to his feet. Cautiously, Josh watches him drag his feet over, keeping the insides of his arms hidden. He bows his head and hiccups softly. 

When Tyler reaches him, he still doesn't look up. If anything, he looks further away, almost pointedly. 

Without a word, he holds his arms out, and everything hits Josh like a punch to the gut.

These aren't just little pink lines. These cuts aren't accidental.

All along Tyler's wrists there are thin red streaks. Some of them have scabbed over, some of them are drying, some of them are oozing blood. There's so many that Josh can't separate them. It's like a blizzard of hurt on Tyler's skin, all bloody and torn, and some of them look _new._ Not yesterday new, not even an hour ago new. They look they've been done no more than ten minutes ago. 

And Josh is hurt.

"What did you do it with?" he asks in a small voice, and he hopes it comes out gentle.

Tyler swallows thickly. "Um. A-at one of the gas stations, on the way here, I bought a packet of razorblades." He looks at Josh and god, it feels like he's been punched in the gut with the way Tyler's eyes are misty and dark. "I told myself I wasn't going to do it, that I didn't have a reason to, but I saw them and it was like I couldn't stop myself."

"How long ago did you buy them, Ty?"

"A little over a week ago, I think. Maybe more."

And then the knot in Josh's throat is strangling him and his eyes are burning and now he's crying along with Tyler because _dammit,_ he thought this was over, he thought Tyler was done. 

"So you relapsed." 

Tyler nods.

Josh's lips let loose a little breath. Tyler is shaking, and his lips are trembling, and in his gorgeous eyes there's cold hard fear. Josh decides he needs to get rid of that.

Without a word, he moves closer and reaches his arms out, slowly pulling Tyler in. He keeps his touch light at first, giving Tyler room to escape, but when there's no struggling he squeezes the man tightly. He begins to rock them, reaching a hand up to comb through dark, choppy hair. Tyler's shoulder's are shaking and little half sobs make their way out of his mouth, so Josh leans in further and starts murmuring in Tyler's ear.

"It's okay," he says. "You're okay, Tyler. You relapsed and you hurt yourself but that's okay. You're getting better, Tyler. You're gonna get better. Just wait a while. Soon you'll be able to look back and be proud that you made it, okay? Don't worry, Ty, you'll be okay."

He hears a little wet noise, and he buries his nose in Tyler's neck.

Tyler hadn't been crying very hard, so it doesn't take him long to calm down, but when he pulls away and their eyes meet he looks like he's about to break down all over again. Josh hopes that he comes off as warm, as comforting and reassuring. He makes sure there's no judgement in his eyes.

"Tyler, I need to ask you something. Do you think you'll be able to answer right now?"

Tyler gives a little nod. 

"Where are the razorblades?"

That makes the shorter man's throat bob, and his eyes gloss over. He takes a shuddering breath and opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again when nothing comes out. Josh waits.

Finally, "th-three of them are on the bus. two in my bag and one in my pillowcase. the other one, it's..."

Tyler gets choked up again, and Josh places a hand on his back and moves it up and down. Tyler pinches the bridge of his nose and slides a hand down his face exhaustedly. 

"I have the other one with me."

A hand dips into a pocket, and then there's a tiny slip of metal being dropped into Josh's waiting hand. He marvels at it for a second, marvels at the way that something so small could be so powerful. Just a little swipe, a little bit too deep, and Tyler could be gone. 

Razor blades are supposed to be for shaving hair, not skin.

"Thank you, Tyler."

He sees the uncertainty on Tyler's face when he looks at him again, and he gives a tiny, reassuring smile before closing the gap between them. It's just a quick kiss, no longer than a second, and then he plants another one on each of Tyler's cheeks, then his forehead. He rests their foreheads together, then, and quickly slips the blade into his back pocket before taking Tyler's hands into his own.

"Are you mad, Josh?"

"No, Ty. Never. Surprised, yeah. Shocked, maybe. But not mad."

Tyler laces their fingers together. "Will you help me, Josh? Help me get better? Help me stop this?"

And Josh is looking into the warmest eyes, eyes that remind him of safety and love and home, and he reaches up to brush a thumb across a single tear streaking down Tyler's face. Tyler's lips twitch up, for the first time in too long, and Josh finds his own doing the same. He kisses him again, lets this one last a little longer, and he cups Tyler's face when they break apart.

"I'll do my best."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I saw twenty one pilots in Sydney in December and it was probably the best night of my life, with me crying at least 5 time during and after the concert. i spent all my money on merch and met up with some pretty great people. my partner loves the shirt i got them which is all i could have asked for. all in all, it was an amazing night.


End file.
